


Notebook's Pages

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: Blessings In Disguise [2]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Family, Gen, Growing Up, Mech Preg, Sparklings, Team as Family, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raising a pair of twin Sparklings in the middle of nowhere -- well, between two Space Bridges -- isn't easy. Still, Optimus' team wouldn't trade what they have for all the energon in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hide and Seek (and Panic)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this new collection of snippets/one shots/prompts following the continuity of 'Bitter Blessing'. Get in to see cute Sparklings and some 'team as family' reflexion.

There were times Ratchet missed Omega more than he could have imagined. Today was one of those, he thought frantically as he checked yet another room. Bumblebee run past him in a panic, arms flailing.

“They’re not on deck 3 either, I checked!”

“Don’t panic, kid,” Ratchet snapped as he closed the room behind him and locked it before making a quick mark on it to show it had been checked already. “We still have deck 4 and deck 5… the maintenance corridors… the engine room… and I hope they’re not in the engines room, because if they are, then Prime is definitely going to blow up!”

“How can two little ‘bots manage to escape notice so often?” Bumblebee whined as he run faster down the corridor, not waiting for Ratchet.

The old medic snorted for himself before following the path taken by the smaller mech at a more calm pace. It showed Bumblebee had never been around Sparklings. As cute as those things were, they were also troublesome, Optimus’ twins more than the few Ratchet had had the pleasure to know.

Ariel and Dion were barely more than three stellar cycles, and already they kept escaping their cribs or their playpen, showing an intelligence Ratchet was highly suspicious off. Those kids were either genius, or they were getting outside help -- though he could grudgingly admit Bumblebee wasn’t responsible for today’s mad scramble to find the Twins and bring them back. He was just as panicked as Prime had been when he had run back to the Bridge after checking on the nursery and discovering his kids had once again played escape artists.

And, like every time they did, everyone was dragged in the search. Prowl was crawling the vents, Optimus called frantically for his ‘babies’ to answer him, Bulkhead did heavy lifting just in case they were hiding behind a crate or two, and the medic and Bumblebee kept looking around for the smallest sign of a Sparkling’s presence or the tell-tale giggle of a tiny vocalizer.

Those kids were brats, Ratchet decided as he called up a lift. But they were cute little brats, and they made Prime… and the rest of the team… feel more happy with their lot than the old medibot would have expected.

Still, he wished Omega had still been online. Searching for two errand bitlets would have been so much easier with Omega’s captors fully online, and the gentle giant AI able to directly give them intel. Teletraan I was a pathetic substitute to his old friend.

Besides… It would have been so nice to introduce Omega Supreme to his two youngest passengers, and show him part of what he had fought so hard to defend: the future of Cybertron itself.


	2. More Than Meet The Eye (or: This Is Family)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus muses about his team and his Sparklings...

There are more to his team than meet the optic, Optimus had come to realize. Sure, they weren’t exactly the cream of the crop of the Autobots, but they were far from being the misfit crew of rejects some uncharitable ‘bots had snickered about in Optimus’ audio receptors.

By consensus, lowly Space Bridge technicians and maintenance ‘bots were thought stupid, untrustworthy or possibly crazed or handicapped in a way that stopped them from being ‘real Autobots’. Or they were being punished for a past misdeed, as Optimus himself had been. He hadn’t ended up on a repair crew because he was well-liked, after all. He had been sent here to live in disgrace and to be taught a lesson. Once upon a time, the Prime-in-rank-only, as some taunting ‘bots called him, might have agreed with them.

No more, though.

For one, his ‘lowly repair work’ allowed him to raise his Sparklings himself -- even if it was far from Cybertron, without the support of his former lovers, and even if the Sparklings’ existence and arrival hadn’t been planned. But Sentinel and Elita’s support were quickly forgotten as Optimus contemplated the hidden depth of his team members and saw just how much they cared.

Take Prowl, for example. The older ‘bot was a loner, a newcomer to the team and not a part of their official roster, for they had picked him up on a deserted planet and offered him safe passage to Cybertron in compensation for having accidentally destroyed his ship. He never seemed to care much about the team, or about anything. And still, he had been the first one to notice, the first one to show an increased interest in Optimus’ Carrying cycle. Optimus fully knew from whom those energon cubes he found on his night table came from, after all.

Despite the odds, he had stayed with them instead of opting to go back to Cybertron, the last time they tried to go back to their home planet -- before receiving yet another ‘urgent’ call for repair at a far end sector. And nowaday, when Optimus came in to check on his Sparklings, it was often for Prowl to be watching them silently from a perch on a rafter, like a silent sentinel, or amusing them with his holograms.

Ratchet was grumpy. Ratchet was impolite. Ratchet had been in the war and seen things that had scarred him, things he didn’t want to talk about despite Optimus longing to learn about their history. Ratchet had been the one who had almost blow up when Optimus had revealed himself to be Carrying while they were working their aft off to repair yet another Bridge damaged by a meteorites shower. He had been the one who had dragged Optimus to berth rest before ranting long and loud about the stupidity of it all. By all, Optimus meant the fact the Prime couldn’t get the due care he should have needed while housing a new life simply because they were a repair crew with almost no leave time.

Ratchet had been the one to help him deliver those Sparklings, despite having little experience with Carriers and emergence, doing his best to research the subject despite their limited means. Ratchet had been the one who had first fed Ariel, with that strange, faraway look on his face, before handing her back to the Prime as he muttered he’d better keep her safe. He was the one whom, even now, panicked at Dion or Ariel’s slightest cough, scanning them frantically for virus even before Optimus had made a gesture.

Bulkhead… Bulkhead was big, and often clumsy, breaking down objects without even meaning to, with a sheepish expression on his face, rubbing the back on his helm with embarrassment. It wasn’t exactly his fault; certainly, he was clumsy, but Optimus privately thought that most furnitures and random objects they had on board hadn’t been created with bigger models in mind. Of course they’d break if handled by someone taller or far stronger than a standard Minibot. The Prime easily forgave and was quick to reassure the younger mech; it wasn’t his fault, and he wasn’t angry.

Especially not when he could see just how much potential for creation the big ‘bot had. It was Bulkhead who had created the Twins’ cribs, and their playpens. He was the one who had made them a mobile out of scrap metal and crystals to hang above their cradles. He was the one who kept giving them roughly cut toys that, despite their basic and simple appearance, made Ariel and Dion shriek in joy. He was the one who had painted the ‘nursery’, that old unused storage room next to Prime’s quarters, with dashing bright colors and designs after easily destroying part of the wall between the two rooms to make a door.

Certainly, his work lacked finesse, but it was done with all his Spark, for the sake of Optimus’ Sparkling, and the Prime couldn’t help but be touched by the gentle giant’s kind acts.

And Bumblebee… Sometimes, Optimus wondered what Bumblebee was doing here. He was a good ‘bot, a very good ‘bot, but when he watched the little yellow mech giggle and make face at Ariel and Dion before sweeping them in his arms to make them ‘fly’, or sprawl on the floor to allow them to crawl all over him, the Prime couldn’t help but wonder how young he truly was.

Bumblebee doesn’t act like an adult mech -- he does try, and for the most part, he can fool the others, but now that Optimus was looking closely, now that he isn’t swept up by the Minibot’s bravado and wisecracking, he can see it. Obviously, whoever had been manning the BootCamp’s inscriptions had thought Bumblebee had been old enough to join the Autobot ranks, but from Optimus’ perspective, the little yellow bot could have waited a few more stellar cycles.

Ariel and Dion make him express his childishness, even if Bumblebee doesn’t realize it, and it soothes something inside Optimus’ Spark to see the three of them together, napping on the floor after ‘playing’. It’s nice to see Bumblebee play ‘big brother’, even if he denies it aloud.

What a team they made, really. A washed-out Elite Guard member, a loner Cyber-Ninja, a clumsy Space Bridge technician, a grumpy, scarred medic and a too-young, too hard-trying Minibot. Oh, and let’s not forget two little Sparklings who were barely discovering how to walk under their own power, clutching at their Carrier’s digits to take unsteady little steps, under the whole crew’s amused gaze.

Anyone else might have found the lot of them worth a laugh. But Optimus wasn’t just anyone else, and he wouldn’t have exchanged any member of his team for all the energon in the Universe.


	3. A Medic You Aren't (or: Don't Give Your Brother 'Owies')

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariel takes her games too seriously, to Optimus' anguish and worry...

Optimus loved his Sparklings. He loved them dearly, despite the pangs of sadness they sometimes gave him as he watched them grow up and saw how much they were starting to resemble their respective Sires in looks if not in personality. Those pangs were quickly squashed, though, as they charged at him to give him hugs and kisses, babbling happily about such or such thing, or as he watched them play together or with Bumblebee.

Today, though, Optimus wasn’t happy as he looked down at his daughter with narrowed optics and a very disappointed look. Little Ariel started back at him with a pout, her expression almost a mirror of Elita’s own whenever the yellow femme had been feeling stubborn about something. Optimus discarded the thought quickly, because now wasn’t the time to quietly reminisce. Now was the time to have a very serious discussion with his femme Sparkling.

“Ariel, may I ask what you were thinking?” he asked, trying to sound level and not succumb to the urge to alternately hug his daughter or scream at her.

Ariel’s pout seemed to deepen. “‘were just playing, Daddy.”

“So you said, and so Dion said,” Optimus answered as calmly as he does. “Which is why I didn’t immediately ground you, young lady. And now, I’d like to hear from you why you did that.”

“But Daddy, how else am I supposed to be a doctor?” the little femme whined. “The dollies already had their owies healed, and I needed a new patient!”

“So you decided to give your own brother real ‘owies’, just like that?” Optimus asked in disbelief, fighting not to shake his head. That was the part he couldn’t wrap his mind around.

He knew Ariel loved to play doctor -- a side effect of her great affection for Ratchet, the Prime thought. As such, the old medic had indulged and amused her by ‘furnishing’ the Sparklings’ playroom with some ‘medical equipment’. In truth, they were scrapped but perfectly safe medical tools, blunted and stripped of anything working or anything dangerous, to which he had added fake buttons, plus fake scanners and assorted items. Ariel had been delighted by the ‘new toys’ and had taken to spark to ‘heal’ her dolls and plush toys -- with the help of her brother turned ‘Nurse’.

Except that today, for a reason that escaped Optimus, the little femme had decided to have Dion play patient -- and for real.

“I’m not happy, Ariel. Do you realize you could have seriously injured your brother?”

At least the pink femmeling had the decency to look ashamed, and she fidgeted. “But I didn’t do anything serious, did I, Daddy? Grampa Ratchet fix all…”

“But you could have, Ariel, you could have,” Optimus pointed out immediately. “It may have only be a scratch or two, but what if you had cut into an energon line? What if Bumblebee hadn’t see you when he did? Would you have tried to give him more ‘owies’ to fix by yourself?” He paused, taking a deep inspiration. “Ratchet is a good medic, Ariel, and it warms my Spark you trust him so much, or that you want to grown up to be a medic just like him. But you must realize that, good medic or not, we’re in space. That means we only have access to the supplies we have on board, and they’re mainly to cover ‘standard’ injuries, such as a pulled traction cable or dented plating. We don’t have the means to give transfusions if someone lost too much energon or coolant,” he stressed out, trying to make Ariel understand. “If anyone is seriously injured, then Ratchet might not be able to treat him well until we reach a spaceport or a colony -- which can take several solar cycles. That’s dangerous, Ariel. Very, very dangerous.”

Ariel hesitated. Obviously, she was realizing she had done something very wrong, which was good, but she was also very stubborn, just like Elita and Sentinel, so she probably had trouble saying it aloud and apologizing. “I… Is Dion gonna be okay?” she finally said, optics lowered.

Optimus sighed. “He will. You didn’t do as much damage as you seem to think, but he’ll be wearing flexible-steel bandages on his knee so long his nanites work to repair his plating.” He thought about his son briefly, the quieter twin currently sitting in the medbay while Ratchet scanned and rescanned him as he sucked on an energon-lolly to sooth him and dry his tears. “No more playing ‘doctor’ for the next two orbital cycles, young lady,” he added after a moment of silence, looking straight into Ariel’s optics.

“Daddy!”

“Try to say anything, Ariel, and it’ll be a permanent confiscation of your ‘medical supplies’,” he warned her, optics narrowed, and the femmeling had the good sense to immediately shut up. “You’re also confined to your room for the next three solar cycles, and I want you to write a formal excuse to Ratchet for having worried him so much, and to Dion for having hurt him. That’ll make you practice your writing, if nothing else. Prowl mentioned your spelling is still as disastrous as ever.”

“... yes, Daddy.” Her head hung low, and she didn’t dare to say anything else. “Can I… can I go see Dion, Daddy? To see if he’s alright and if Grampa Ratchet made him better?”

Optimus didn’t quite smile, because he was still cross with her. But the request was sincere, and she was learning from her mistake. Plus, he knew Dion wanted to see his sister anyway, to make sure she wasn’t too upset. He had already forgiven her, knowing him. He nodded. “You can. And Ariel?” The little femme paused, already at the door. “A medic does much more than heal ‘owies’. Ask Ratchet if you don’t believe me; he’ll also tell you the first rule of all medical personnel on Cybertron, which is: ‘Healer, do not harm’. A medic don’t go around injuring mechs to be his ‘patients’. Now, I know you weren’t thinking of any wrong, and that you only wanted to be able to practice like a true doctor. However, you are just a Sparkling, Ariel; medical schools don’t accept Sparklings as students. If you truly want to become a true medic, providing you’re still interested when you reach the proper age, then you have all the time in the universe. Let’s not rush it, okay, sweetling?”

Ariel smiled briefly, part ashamed and part reassured. “Yes, Daddy.”


	4. Save Roller (or: How to Take Care of Your Techno-Organic Pet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm going to play with a very loose timeline and post things out of order as ideas strike me.  
> This chapter takes place a while after the team crashed on Earth, and after Blackarachnia's appearance.

“So Ratchet, what do you think? Is Roller…?” Optimus asked worriedly, gently rubbing the back of his distressed son. Dion had stopped sobbing earlier as his beloved pet turtle had been entrusted in the care of their medic, but he was still hiccuping here and there and his optics looked like those of a kicked turbo-puppy. It hurt the Prime to see his Sparkling in such a state, but it couldn’t be helped. He was also worried for Sari, who hadn’t taken the incident well either, and he mentally thanked Primus for Bumblebee’s handle of the situation. If Optimus was cradling Dion close, Bumblebee had employed a similar tactic with their resident human friend, with similar results. It seemed that young spirits, no matter the species, reacted the same way.

The medic grunted, waving his hand. “Skip the drama, Optimus; that turtle isn’t going to die, for the Allspark’s sake! I don’t know exactly what that sla… damn Key did,” he corrected himself, mindful of his younger audience as well as of Optimus’ narrowed optics, “but I assure you Dion’s pet isn’t in any danger of offlining any time soon. If anything, I predict this critter a long, interesting life.”

“Ratchet? Cut it out and give us a clear answer!” Optimus wasn’t happy at all.

The medic sighed. “Remember that spider lady-friend of yours?” Optimus tensed. “Well, as far as I can tell, I now have the non-sentient, non-lethal version on that slab. Congratulation, Dion; your turtle is now a techno-organic.” He moved, letting them see Roller. His shell had taken a definite metalic aspect and seemed more armored than before. Now only that, but there were tiny wheels peaking from underneath his feet. The result was frankly strange to witness, though Roller seemed very unconcerned by his recent transformation.

Dion uncurled and blinked. “Will… will he be alright Uncle Ratchet? What should I give him to eat? Must I modify his terrarium?”

Ratchet rubbed the back of his helm tiredly. What could he answer to that? It wasn’t as if he knew anything about techno-organics. And still, Dion was looking up to him, expecting him to have all answers. It was both gratifying and terrifying, and he hoped he wouldn’t let the Sparkling down. “That, kid, we will have to learn through trials and error.”


	5. Meeting Roller (or: Turtles Aren't Lame)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just how did Dion and Roller meet anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take place sometimes before the previous ficlet. For the prompt: **Sparkling!AU: Dion + Roller -Best of friends**

Dion liked Earth. He couldn’t help it; it was just so… so cool! So many lifeforms he could watch and peer at with big, wide optics! Prowl helped him too, holding him up so he could watch little ‘birdies’ in their nests when they went to the park -- Dion was too small to look in the branches, and Papa Optimus had almost blew up a diode when he had learned Dion had tried to climb by himself. He hadn’t spanked him like Ariel when she went running after a ball in the middle of traffic, but it was a very near thing.

The birdies, however, weren’t Dion’s favorites. He really prefered to watch the grounded lifeforms, and also the ones in the water -- they were so weird but also so neat! He was even getting very good friends with them all. He picked up cats and threw things at dogs so they’d bring them back, or he put his hands in the water to try and catch fishes. Prowl didn’t seem nearly as interested by them, nor did the little human girl Sari, but they still accompanied him whenever he wanted to go to the park and Papa was too busy to go with him.

Today, though, Sari seemed to be in a sour mood -- which was too bad, because he found her nice and funny most of times, even if she prefered to hang out with Bumblebee rather than him and Ariel. Anyway, the human didn’t seem very impressioned with Dion’s latest animal friend.

“A turtle? Really? That’s so _lame_!”

Dion frowned. “Roller isn’t ‘lame’,” he said, scandalized. “He’s very, very neat! See, he has a protoform and an armor, just like us!” he added, showing off the turtle cupped in his hands. Said turtle looked at them all with what seemed to be a bored look.

Sari shrugged. “You want to keep it? Really?”

“Of course! He is going to become my best friend ever, just you watch,” he added, pulling his glossa at Sari. It was very childish and Papa wouldn’t be happy he did, but Roller was cool, and nobody would ever convince him otherwise!


	6. The Other Daddy (or: Ariel Isn't Impressed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elite Guard is here, and a 'secret' come to light... And Optimus shouts. A lot.

So that was Dion’s Daddy -- and technically her second Sire as well? He didn’t look like much, Ariel thought with a frown. From her position back, half hidden behind one of Uncle Bulkhead’s legs, she peered at him with narrowed optics. Next to her, behind their gigantic Uncle’s other leg, she knew her brother was doing just the same, observing the tall, broad chested mech that Papa had identified briefly before the screaming match started. Unlike Ariel, though, she knew he was watching with big optics and probably hope.

Ariel wasn’t a very trusting little femme, unlike her twin. She prefered to analyze first. And she wasn’t exactly happy with the arrival of that big ship and its occupants, nor was she fully convinced by their ‘other Daddy’ whose arrival not only seemed to upset Papa, but who was also throwing a wrench in her plans to make Papa and Uncle Prowl (or Uncle Ratchet, or even Uncle Bulkhead) fall in love with Papa.

‘Other Daddy’ looked like Dion, that much she could tell at first glance. He looked cute too, and she guessed that for big femmes, he might have looked handsome. Asides of his looks, though, she really wasn’t sure about him at all.

He was upsetting Papa, for one. And he had never come or called before! That, Ariel decided, was a big point against him -- though not as big as trying to kidnap her, like the mean spider-lady had tried to do with her.

Papa had told them before their ‘other Daddy’ didn’t know about them. Given the way he had reacted when they had run to Papa, scared by the apparition of the big ship and the strangers, she guessed Papa hadn’t lied. The way ‘other Daddy’s face had frozen and the way he shook his head in disbelief couldn’t have been faked.

So he hadn’t known, which gave him an excuse for not coming and not giving her and Dion’s gifts and hugs and energon goodies.

But, Ariel thought as her optics narrowed further, that didn’t meant she was forgiving him! Especially if he continued to scream at Papa! Same thing for the stranger, big mech with the giant hammer! So she grunted, and she listened, and wondered why grown ups had to be so complicated. Because it really sounded like it, from the way the conversation was going...

“How could you hide them from me?!”

“Hide them?! You’re the one who refused to take my calls any time I tried to contact you about them! I left you messages, I made comm calls, and you. never. slagging. tried. to answer. them! How is that my fault?!”

“That… that’s… you should have tried harder!”

“Regardless of circumstances, Optimus Prime, a ship like the _Orion_ wasn’t a place to raise Sparklings…”

“Ultra Magnus, with all due respect to your rank, please kindly shut up and don’t interfere between me and Sentinel’s long overdue explanation!”


End file.
